Yet, we all get the p90. Fia said, smiling as the waitress replaced the dead perry with a fresh one. I'm still getting used to it. The reload is slower than the M4, and it doesn't quite have the same distance. But the p90 has a lot less spread, and since hitting the enemy is kinda the point... Well, the point of a PDW anyhow.

The evening really couldn't be better. Good talk, good food, a handsome guy she may be able to sneak a couple of kisses out of. Fia dug into her baked potato, rather enjoying the warm happy feeling in her bones.

"Certainly not on accident, sir." Liam raised his eyebrow on that one...

"Not a very inspirational answer" Liam thought but kept it to himself, until he realized he said it out loud. Most people in Special Operations are the best of the best marksmen in the world and definitely know when the safety is on and when it isn't and although accidents do happen in training and such, it is rare. Even for the USMC.

"I favor the USAS-12 Combat Shotgun, for my current assignment but I would never turn down an M1 Garand." The USAS is pretty nice but the M1 Garand, that is an antique and definitely not very good for modern war.

Yet, we all get the p90. I'm still getting used to it. The reload is slower than the M4, and it doesn't quite have the same distance. But the p90 has a lot less spread, and since hitting the enemy is kinda the point... Well, the point of a PDW anyhow. Liam couldn't help but agree. The M4 is better and used by US Army Special Forces and Liam's favorite assault rifle but the P90 does help and is successful against the Jaffa but the M4 could be just as successful or even more successful than the P90.

"Same here, Fia. I haven't used it before until I joined the SGC but it does grow on you and it isn't like we have much of a choice, if we did the M4 would be with me every mission, like it used to be." Liam missed those days but the SGC is definitely exciting, more so than Africa or the Middle East and taking the fight to the enemy before they get home is what the US Military does all the time, even when it involves aliens, apparently.

"Not me. It's the USAS-12, the M249, or the M16A4 when we get cleared to haul an M203 into the field. I prefer making a big impression when I pull the trigger." Taft said between chewed bites of his steak, after washing the last one down with his lemonade. Real quiet to begin with, lots of stealth when the Raiders came to town. But when it came time to make their presence felt, the Marine Raiders liked to "go not gently." He popped some of the crisp but well cooked green beans into his mouth and chewed.

"I'm a NonCom, sir, I'm not trained to be inspirational. I assumed that was part of Officers Candidate School." Officers gave the pretty speeches to the rank and file, then Sergeants won the battles while dragging the Officers along so they could pose for victory photos when it was all done. That was why Taft was earning the big money.

Taft shook his head. "M4 has been out competed repeatedly, the Army just keeps canceling the competitions before they finish out. I always found them unreliable, the magazines tinny and prone to jamming, etc. The Marine Raiders unit I was with got in the habit of rebuilding the things with better parts every time we got stuck with a batch."

Fia would have argued the inspirational point, except the thoughts he kept inspiring weren't something she was willing to share in mixed company. She wasn't entirely sure she was ready to share them with Taft just yet. So instead she smiled happily to herself and finished off the baked potato. Under the table, the foot that had been resting on his all evening began lightly tapping of it's own accord.

You missed a hullabaloo while you were gone. Everyone had been ordered to report for duty and all the snowflakes showed up with their 'pet' weapons. We had an Mk.18 CQBR, M4A5 SOPMOD, even a Katana. Fia chuckled. You can bet that was nixed pretty quick.

"Not me. It's the USAS-12, the M249, or the M16A4 when we get cleared to haul an M203 into the field. I prefer making a big impression when I pull the trigger." Says every Marine, ever. All Marines like their guns and especially the bigger guns with bigger the bang, not that Liam would ever voice his thoughts out loud, especially about Marines.

"I'm a NonCom, sir, I'm not trained to be inspirational. I assumed that was part of Officers Candidate School." Liam smiled, that isn't exactly true but maybe it is for Marines?

"Really? I did always take you as more of the drill sergeant, your inspirational in that respect." Liam said knowing that to be true. But Marines are all about discipline and obedience, they give an order and you follow it, no questions asked.

"M4 has been out competed repeatedly, the Army just keeps canceling the competitions before they finish out. I always found them unreliable, the magazines tinny and prone to jamming, etc. The Marine Raiders unit I was with got in the habit of rebuilding the things with better parts every time we got stuck with a batch." Liam couldn't argue against that but he never had a problem with the gun, but then again he never really used it much, being a Special Forces Officer you tend not be in the heat of things, that is what the enlisted guys are for. The Officers tend to stay in the back, Liam didn't always do that but he didn't use his gun as much as the others on his team.

"Good point." Was all Liam replied about that.

You missed a hullabaloo while you were gone. Everyone had been ordered to report for duty and all the snowflakes showed up with their 'pet' weapons. We had an Mk.18 CQBR, M4A5 SOPMOD, even a Katana. You can bet that was nixed pretty quick.

"I can imagine. I am really not that big of a weapons man or person, I don't fuss over the weapons we deal with. As long as it works and doesn't cost me the life of one of my team members or myself, I am a happy man." Liam said knowing that when he arrived back at work that he'd be briefed on anything eventful that happened.

"I don't get on well with civilians, DI was never a job of interest to me. I make the kids cry." He looked from Hart to Fia then. "That's why they let me greet the new rank and file types at the gate when they first arrive, weed out the weak ones." By making off-hand comments about what happened to the people they were replacing, usually. It was fun for him and entertaining to the other Sergeants who liked to stand around and nod grimly with whatever the Sgt Major came up with.

Taft was starting to worry that his plate had a leak, most of its contents had gone somewhere without his noticing it leaving. So he stole a bite off of Fia's plate by spearing the steak cube with his fork and popping is ill gotten gains into his mouth quickly. Giving her a wink when she inevitably looked at him for absconding with a bit of her meal.

She had only just finished cutting of a bit off the quickly shrinking steak, when some thieving Sergeant Major speared it. Her fork was buried deep in the body of the steak, leaving her only the steak knife to defend her dinner with. The slightest hesitation on her part cost her the tidbit as the knife missed by a hair's breath and clacked against the plate. Fia glanced up with a mock scowl that faded when countered by winking blue eyes. You do realize that's a good way to lose a finger, right? She chuckled, using the knife to punctuate her thoughts. Now that I know you are the thieving scoundrel, I'll be better prepared for it.

The knife turned to Hart as well, as if making sure he wasn't getting ideas on her last morsels. Well if your dead, your not going to be doing a whole lot of fussing either. Better to fuss before hand. Fia reasoned, an easy smile on her lips. And I wouldn't call it fussing really. I like to know everything I can about the tools available to me, as well as make sure I can use them to their full potential. If that means spending the day at a range out shooting misogynistic neanderthals, even better.

(Sorry that I am a bit late, I just started school back up but I should be on frequently still.)

"I don't get on well with civilians, DI was never a job of interest to me. I make the kids cry." Liam couldn't help but laugh, this was something he totally believed. "That's why they let me greet the new rank and file types at the gate when they first arrive, weed out the weak ones." That isn't hard to do, the man can scare practically anyone especially young new recruits, he is a DI just to those that are already serving.

"I truly believe that Sergeant Major, you don't reach that rank without scaring people for a living." Liam stated as a matter-of-fact. Same with the Officers, making it to Lieutenant Colonel or Colonel status is pretty hard and you don't get there by being nice. Going any higher and they get even scarier, even if you are the nicest person on the planet.

Liam was entertained by the love birds as they stole their food from each others plates, Liam had a feeling they had feelings for each other even if they didn't admit it and even if they never acted on it. The fact of the matter was that they went to dinner together and happened to get busted by someone who doesn't care but they still didn't make a clean getaway with their dinner plans.

You do realize that's a good way to lose a finger, right? Now that I know you are the thieving scoundrel, I'll be better prepared for it. Scoundrel? That was a word Liam hadn't heard since watching Star Wars.

"Is he your Han, Princess?" Liam asked seriously to see if she got the reference, it may not be funny to them but it was entertaining to Liam, nonetheless.

Well if your dead, your not going to be doing a whole lot of fussing either. Better to fuss before hand. And I wouldn't call it fussing really. I like to know everything I can about the tools available to me, as well as make sure I can use them to their full potential. If that means spending the day at a range out shooting misogynistic neanderthals, even better.

"Well, spending the day at the range out shooting misogynistic neanderthals or even scoundrels can certainly be arranged." Liam promised as he folded his arms at his chest, he didn't want to lose any hands. "Your food is safe with me, I am not a scoundrel" Liam added that word to his word of the week which is something he is going to have to start, it seemed entertaining to tease people about their odd vocabulary.

"I scare people as a genetic trait. Got it from my father's side of the family." Taft said it as a matter of fact. Truth, from the gospel according to Taft. His father was certainly the only person who'd ever scared him and that was likely because he'd never known his grandfather when he was old enough to be scared of another man. Either way, he'd grown out of it by High School, when he and his father had settled upon a policy of mutual neglect. Of course, that was going on in the back of his mind while he was quirking a minor grin at Fia. "I'd like to see you try." Spec-Ops romance was a twisted thing.

Taft paused however, a look of disbelief on his face as he looked at Hart. "Did he just call you 'princess'?"

Fia quickly popped the last bit of steak past her lips, removing any chance of a second skirmish. She was too busy chewing to verbalizing a reply, but her gaze clearly stated she had every intention of trying... something. She swallowed quick, nearly choking at being call 'princess'. Though if one had to be compared to a princess, she certainly would rather it be Leia than some sappy Disney pushover. He did indeed. Fia chuckled at Taft's disbelief. Princess was certainly not a nickname she would picture Taft using on her, not with any seriousness anyhow. Maybe if he wanted to goad her.

She took a good swig of her perry to clear her throat before turning in her seat slightly to face Hart. That would make you either the walking carpet or the whiny farm boy. Neither of which get the girl in the end. Fia pointed out, a wicked smile on her lips. You may want to look into the whole scoundrel thing.